


To Love Or To Hate

by ForeverRed



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Porn, Blood and Violence, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Everyone is Dead, Evil Loki (Marvel), Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Tony Stark, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, M/M, Sexual Violence, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27938758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForeverRed/pseuds/ForeverRed
Summary: Prompt:“Oh, you’re still alive.”“Don’t sound so disappointed, I might think you don’t like me.”
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Kudos: 31





	To Love Or To Hate

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my daily writing exercise. Heed the warnings, this does not have a happy ending and this is not a happy story. Read at your own risk.

You didn’t have to be a genius to know that eventually, you have to sleep. There’s only so much caffeine that can be consumed before the body just starts to reject it. There were drugs, but Tony wasn’t entirely fond of that idea. As the weeks passed, he had grown more interested. Pepper and Rhodey would kill him if they ever found out he had an _inkling_ of consuming drugs to stay awake, but it was a thought that Tony played around with often. Anything to avoid sleeping.

Tony leaned back in the chair, rubbing at his burning, heavy eyes. He was so tired, despairingly exhausted. But his chest clenched at the idea of lying down, of letting his eyes close for longer than it took to blink. The images that had been carved behind his eyes haunted him. When it had happened, it had taken everything Tony had to stay on his feet and to keep fighting. And when the battle was won, he wondered if he should have just let go. Because death had to be better than the waking nightmare that constantly plagued him.

He shook his head, leaning forward to continue working on the gauntlet. He was trying to figure out a way to get more firepower in it. He could have had Jarvis run the schematics and helped make this process quicker, but it was relaxing to focus on something. A couple of his fingers had been cut from the sharp metal, but it was easy to ignore the sharp pain as he moved pieces around and played with the wiring. He refused to get up and go to the kitchen where the band-aids were, because he would find the mansion empty and dark and that was just not something Tony was ready for. Hadn’t been for weeks. Maybe never would be.

He was so focused on his task that he didn’t notice the slight shiver in the air touched with a hint of green. He didn’t look up as a pale god walked from the shadows to stand in front of his desk. He had noticed by now, the presence of a god was hard to ignore. Their very presence brought upon a strange sort of energy. With this one in particular, that energy inspired the hair to stand up along his arms and back of his neck. Such a different energy from his brother, who could make anyone feel lighter and warmer with his presence. Tony had never laughed easier than with him. He could still remember the nights where they would lounge on the roof, drinking beer – though Tony was the only one that could feel the effects of the alcohol – talking about life, the negatives and the positives. Tony had laughed, deep belly laughs that sometimes lingered into giggles the next day. Without him, Tony found it hard to even smile.

The god grew bored with being ignored and cleared his throat. Tony still ignored him. The god growled then, grabbing the gauntlet and ripping it away from Tony’s shaking, fragile hands. Tony sighed and looked up. “Oh, you’re still alive.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, I might think you don’t like me,” Loki smiled, the edges of his lips curving in malice.

“That would be such an impossible thing, wouldn’t it?” Tony replied, the bite of his words dulled significantly as another wave of exhaustion washed over him.

“Not impossible,” Loki replied, watching as Tony stood to walk to the other end of his worktable where the other gauntlet rested. Loki placed the one in his hand down, walking over to the man. “Especially not in your case. Did you really think I died?”

“No,” Tony said. Loki, dying? That was a hopeful dream that just would never come to light. The God of Mischief. Tasked with the mission of making Tony’s life a living hell, bringing his very worst fears to life, and then twisting it so that Tony would never escape it.

He shivered as Loki’s hand grazed over his shoulder. He couldn’t focus on the gauntlet but he refused to look up, to give Loki the satisfaction of his attention. He knew it wouldn’t deter him, but he hoped in a naïve sort of way that Loki would grow bored. But Loki’s lips found the back of his neck and trailed along to the side. His hand came up to tilt Tony’ head to the side, his lips cool against his jaw. Loki traced the side of his mouth with his tongue, “No matter how much you claim to hate me, you don’t really want me dead. You never did.”

Tony was powerless to stop his tongue from invading his mouth, he stood there without responding as Loki traced his teeth, his tongue, and tasted the bitter resentment. He could only gasp and grit his teeth as Loki’s hands slipped beneath his pants to curve around him, to bring an agonizing pleasure. He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut as he felt Loki’s bare skin against his, but he refused knowing what lie in the darkness of his closed eyes. His back arched and his wounded fingers clawed at the table as Loki invaded him. Loki, as always, used the pleasure that he created to make it painful. He panted against Tony’s ear, his one hand interlacing with Tony’s. And as the pace became more brutal, as the world became a haze, Loki smiled and stopped. Tony was gasping and shaking, and fear began to make him cold as Loki’s hand trailed down his side to wrap around him again.

He stroked once, causing Tony to shiver. His finger lingered at the tip, tracing and playing as he said, “You blame me for killing your friends. Yet you would lay with me at night, in a room next to their own. You are the one that gave me the opportunity to learn everything I needed to rip the team apart from the inside. “

Tony choked as his hand squeezed suddenly around his base, and Loki’s tongue trailed inside the shell of his ear. He began to thrust gently as he continued, “You knew the risk, and yet you chose to choke on my cock rather than tell your friends who was on the other side of the door.”

Loki’s other hand came up to cover his eyes and yank his head back, arching his back severely. His thrusts became punishing, brutal. His other hand stroked in the rhythm. And Tony was lost, lost in the overwhelming pleasure and the terrible agony of what he saw with his eyes closed. Loki, naked and grinning, covered in only blood in his living room. Steve’s throat cut from ear to eat, the wound so deep his head was barely hanging on. Natasha barely recognizable from where she lay on the couch. Clint, his arms gone and his eyes still wide with fear. Bruce was only pieces. Thor, poor Thor, had been brutalized in ways that Tony couldn’t even conceive. He had been posed, an erotic degrading position made worse by his lack of clothes. Only Iron Man’s helmet in his lap.

Tony came with a scream, one filled with the relief of release and tattered with the guilt and terror. Loki finished not long after, still spilling as he pulled out of Tony and pushed the other man to the ground. Tony fell, not bothering to cover himself even as Loki loomed over him. He was so tired.

Loki kneeled over him, caressing his face with one hand, “Get some sleep, Stark. Tomorrow is a new day. Maybe you will want me dead then.”

A cruel thing, because Loki knew as much as Tony that was not going to happen. They were both alive for a reason.

Love and hate really were the same thing.


End file.
